A Tale of Two Pirates
by elvenrarehunter
Summary: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Jack Sparrow's legacy is broadened when he meets a young boy...a young boy named James Hook. Peter Pan xover R&R No flmz plz


_ERH here with a brand new story. Yes, yes, let's hear it. (collective groans from readers) Now that that's out of your system, this was the result of too much soda, sugar, and sleep deprivation. This came from watching Pirates of the Caribbean and Peter Pan consecutively. This is cowritten with a friend, **Commodore Clueless**, fear the insanity that may ensue. _

_If you are feeling exceptionally bored, there are some references to movies other than the aforementioned two. Have fun._

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**Chapter 1: Of Grog and Watermelons**

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There wasn't a cloud in the sky as Jack Sparrow spryly rowed into port at Singapore at high noon. While this did earn him a few odd glances, he was too preoccupied with his current goal to really take any notice of them. He jumped up onto the dock and carefully tied his boat so it wouldn't float away. Satisfied that it would stay where he put it, he set off down the dock into the town above. 

Upon arrival, he strolled down the main street and hardly glanced at the shops as he passed by. He knew where he was going. He counted the side streets and took off down one that he knew had a shady reputation. As he sidled down the empty portion of the street, he noticed a paper attached to one of the grimy walls. Intrigued, Jack tore the paper off the wall to get a closer look. It read

**WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE JACK SPARROW**

"Captain," he hissed, irritated. "Captain Jack Sparrow. Is it so hard to remember?" He continued reading.

**FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE CROWN INCLUDING PIRACY, SMUGGLING, IMPERSONATING AN OFFICER OF THE SPANISH ROYAL NAVY, IMPERSONATING A CLERIC OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, SAILING UNDER FALSE COLORS, ARSON, KIDNAPPING, LOOTING, POACHING, BRIGANDAGE, PILFERING, DEPRAVITY, DEPREDATION, AND GENERAL LAWLESSNESS**

**REWARD** **OFFERED**

Beneath this was a hand drawn portrait of Jack Sparrow. He scoffed and dropped the paper to the pavement beneath his feet.

"Doesn't look a thing like me," he said, continuing down the deserted street. He carefully examined the decrepit signs on the less than respectable establishments found on this end of town.

"The Puss in Boots…" He chuckled to himself. "No time for that. The Murdered Priest…" Jack made a face and turned to another sign, not wanting to know the story behind it. "The Crossed Daggers…hmmm…still slightly ominous. I'm on the right street, am I not?" He turned to another building. "Ah! The Poison Apple. Even better! Here we go." He pushed open the ancient door that looked about ready to fall off its hinges. He walked in, his eyes darting around the room. Upon glancing a familiar personage, he sauntered over to the table and sat down next to him. At the other man's feet, a monkey and an orange tabby cat were chasing each other. Jack raised a hand and motioned the barmaid over to the table.

"What can I get fer ye?" she asked.

"A round of your finest rum," he said. The woman frowned.

"Sorry, we're fresh out," she said. This time it was Jack's turn to frown.

"_Why_ is the rum gone!" Jack asked. She shrugged. The other man looked up from his drink.

"Ye be late, Jack," came his voice, amusement evident. "There be other thirsty patrons."

"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. He looked again at the barmaid. "What else have you got?"

"Grog," she said, obviously annoyed. Jack made another face.

"That doesn't sound too appetizing. What else have you got?" he asked. She stared at him for a moment.

"Grog." Jack glanced at his drinking companion with a twisted grin.

"Delicious. Sounds…delicious," he said. The barmaid rolled her eyes. "And one for Barbossa here. Put it on my tab...off you go" The barmaid looked at the companion, who nodded. She sighed and walked off. These people were giving her a headache. Jack turned to look at Barbossa fully.

"Have you found me my crew?" Jack whispered, "I've got me ship anchored in a cove off the port."

"Well" Barbossa said, "that depends on how big it is. If it's anything like that little dinghy…"

"How do you know about that," Jack demanded. "And no. It is _not_ a 'little dinghy'." Barbossa sniggered,

"She got a name Sparrow?" Jack glanced around at the near empty tavern, leaned closer and whispered.

"It's the Pearl." Upon receiving a blank stare, Jack ran a hand over his face and elaborated, "The _Black Pearl_, Barbossa."

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High noon had long passed when Jack Sparrow finally stumbled out of The Poison Apple and into the dingy alley. When quite unexpectedly, something collided with him. As he stopped to regain his balance he turned to look at the offending object. The object in question was merely a child, a boy dressed in worn clothing that seemed too small. He lay on his back and looked up at Jack with wide, frightened eyes. 

Jack cocked his head, "What 'choo fall over for?" The boy's eyes narrowed.

"I didn't do it on purpose," the boy replied angrily as he got to his feet.

Before Jack had even the chance to respond, a voice called out, "Oi! You! Stop where you are!" Jack turned and glanced towards the mouth of the alley at two guards. Muskets aimed and ready to fire. Curiously, they were not pointed at himself. "You there," they said as they noticed Jack for the first time, "step away from the boy," the soldiers ordered, "you are in the company of a wanted felon." Jack gave a quizzical glance towards the boy.

"Who me, or the whelp?" Jack asked. The guards looked at each other, then back at Jack.

"Jack Sparrow?" one of the guards asked. Jack inclined his head in a way to suggest a bow.

"At your service," he replied. The guards moved their muskets from Hook to Jack. Jack froze momentarily. "Oh bugger." Without a moment's hesitation, the boy took off just as the guards fired. Jack hit the ground in the hopes that it would somehow prevent him from being shot at.

With all of Jack's luck, the gun was not loaded. The guard swore under his breath, remembering the first rule of patrolling the town: you _never_ walk around with a loaded gun. Jack wasted no time in springing to his feet and sprinting off after the boy.

"Oi! Wait for me!" Jack yelled as he ran to catch up.

The boy was several paces ahead of him when Jack rounded the corner and saw the boy in the company of one very large watermelon.

"Oh," Jack said as he cocked his head, "What might you be doing with that _very_ large fruit?"

"No time to talk. Pick one up and on my signal—"

"On your signal…and _who_ is the infamous Jack _Sparrow_?" Jack smirked.

"Pick up the bloody watermelon mate," the boy replied as he threateningly brandished the watermelon. The sound of hurrying footsteps drew nearer and Jack stooped down and, with a mighty heave, attempted to lift the watermelon to his shoulders.

"Not fair, it's slippery," Jack squealed and the watermelon slipped from his grasp and splattered on the cobblestone street.

The guards barreled around the corner and slid on the slippery mess. They collided and fell in a heap.

The boy stood there, looking at the enormous watermelon with downcast eyes. Jack regarded the two fallen guards, bent down and removed his hat. Placing it gracefully upon his head, Jack turned to the boy and said, "Lucky I was here." The boy made a face and angrily threw the watermelon into Jack's stomach and sped down the alley. Jack took a moment to recover from the shock of the attack, and took off after him.

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The boy ran towards the port, bustling the people as he went. He made his way to the docks in the hope that there was a loose boat that he could…borrow. As he scanned the dock for a vessel, his eyes fell on a lonely rowboat that was tied to the pier. Congratulating himself, he jumped into the boat and attempted to untie the knot. 

As luck would have it, it was tied so tightly he couldn't even make the rope budge. On top of that, a guard was approaching the tiny boat.

"Boy," he started, but was interrupted as Jack staggered forward. He pointed a bejeweled finger at the boy.

"That's not very nice," he said.

"What did the lad do?" the guard asked. Jack dared a glance at the boy, who glared at him. Jack turned back to the guard.

"I wasn't talking to the boy, I was talking to you," he said.

"I beg your pardon?" the guard asked.

"What gives you the right to pick on poor unfortunate souls that are less than half your size?" Jack held his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart as he said this. "You know, you really shouldn't pick on small children. I wonder what your superiors would say. Would they be pleased do you think? Making a spectacle of yourself. Really, have you no decency, man?" Meanwhile, the boy had taken out a small knife and was slowly cutting the rope that tied the boat to the dock. Jack was nearly finished with his speech when the two guards he had knocked out earlier came barreling into the street. Jack immediately jumped in the boat and grabbed the oars from the boy. He began to row away and by the time the guards got to the dock, the boat was out of firing range.

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_Now, you know you want to review. You know you want to hit that little bitty, eensy weensy purple button and tell us what you think. No flames please, but CC greatly appreciated. _


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